Memoirs on the Human Condition

I have sought and I have found
I have bought and I have bound
Yet horizon stretches round
Only echoes of the sound

I am an infant, born into an order and a chaos
My first breaths polluted by millennial dirt
Without a choice, given voice used first to express pain
Like living in an unseen rain, I experience the human bane
A pliable brain, the cleanest stain
Always and never the same

Yet there is breath, breath and spirit
Both/and, either/or, I don’t know, but I can hear it
For there is hearing, the tunes of existence playing softly in my ears
As initial clarity nears, for there is also vision,
Receiving through light the sight of a world I cannot know
Spirit with body in tow. Yes or no?
Fission
Or fusion
Collision
Intrusion

I have sought and I have found
I have bought and I have bound
Yet horizon stretches round
Only echoes of the sound

I am a child, learning to live in an order and a chaos
Creative potentiality within the boundaries of reality
Just a boarder until payoff and beyond
I dream on, an internal world to lean on
Growing for a while, then constricting
Constructing growing out of style, in denial
Of who I am and who I’ll be
In a land of comfort and security
On credit, I pay the fee to flee to places unfit for me
All because I am a simple, innocent child, see
So I play my game and act in name
And in name, I decay, and seldom I weep
And pray the Lord my soul to keep, but secretly
My soul begins to flee, seeking freedom from He
Who can truly make me free
Guided toward seclusion
By illusion
An irresolution
Intrusion

I have sought and I have found
I have bought and I have bound
Yet horizon stretches round
Only echoes of the sound

I am a youth, seeking order, lost in chaos
Wanting aromatic essence, instead emissions of aesthetic putrescence
From false phosphorescence of adolescence, incessant
Whirring of mechanical subconscious, unpleasant
Presence of bleak self-made prescience
Precious little Light left, please fan to flame
As I place You under this bowl of deceit
Conceit misrepresenting angst as truth, against
The Truth which says that despair is voiced
By choice, adding a heckler’s noise,
Vetoing the eternal protest within and without
Until a Voice from without broke in
A token of that which was spoken long ago
For the blood is crying out from the ground
And I am east, consequence of folk sin
And also my own skin, or spirit, or soul
But issues of matter do no longer matter
For what us sure is He has heard
The cry of the oppressed, and spoke the word
That pulled a cadaver out from the herd
And stirred new life, rebirth and so on
To grow on, an enigmatic notion which
Spurred eternal motion of internal erosion
For now, I have found the Ocean, the Ocean
With no bounds but I am bound to be found
Following the resonant sounds to the depths of the sound
Where peace, hope, love abound
And thus my journey of extrusion
To suffusion
From intrusion
To inclusion

I have sought and I have found
I have bought and I have bound
Yet horizon stretches round
Only echoes of the sound

I am a man, I am today, overcoming chaos by order
Just a porter in a world now and to come
To allow is to succumb but I know from where I come
And where I’m going, knowing but no knowing
Yet growing. I soar, but no wing can withstand
The heat of the Sun and His Son the Light of humanity
Vanity, vanity, beneath the Sun, all is vanity.
Insanity knocks at the door; through the peephole
I see the people, far and near, without and dear,
The steep tolls to shadows cast by steeples, I see
The shadows within people, I see curtains, not windows
To see the light, for what is night but the turning
Of the world toward its own gravity?
The map that guides to wrong direction, an insurrection
From the rightful throne to cavity. Depravity.

Enough! Enough!
Step back
Take a look
Close your eyes
Deep breath
Open and look again
See and realize
What now is true, has been, will be.
The world within, without
Infinitely around
No need to idealize
And no need to complicate
For there is beauty
In life, in surrender
Once we extricate the soul
From the tethers it has made
And let the story explicate
Itself to me and to you.
The call’s gone out
Despite our twisting
And we can find
Who we’ve been missing
What has fallen
Will be made new

I have sought and I have found
What He has bought, what I had bound
And still horizon stretches around
I follow echoes to the sound

Where arms of peace, hope, love surround

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